


Flight Deck

by Roxy_palace



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Character Study, D/s, Dubious Consent, Imagination, Multi, Threesome, Topping, voyerism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-08
Updated: 2012-10-08
Packaged: 2017-11-15 21:46:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/532117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roxy_palace/pseuds/Roxy_palace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The bigger they come, the harder they fall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flight Deck

It's been a long time since anything has surprised _Natalia Romanova_. Especially where men are concerned. 

The last time… Yeah, the last time had left her vulnerable and slow witted, and she'd vowed it'd never happen again. If love is for children, then lust is just a drug for childish adults, a petty distraction, and Nat has no time for distractions she can't use. 

_Observe, infiltrate, assess, report._ That was what she was there for. To be a living lie - accessible, friendly, _disarming_. The gentle 'face' of S.H.E.I.L.D. 

So she's a little put out when she meets Steve Rogers, _Captain America no less_ , and the iron grip she has on herself slips just a little bit.

"Hi," she says to his neat side parting, his tweed slacks, his pretty boy face; the desire she's suddenly, irrationally, feeling resonating in the depth of her unfaithful voice. It gives her pause and she grabs a moment to collect her thoughts by sending Coulson - who's done nothing but rave about the Captain for months - to the bridge, and leading Rogers out across the flight deck. 

"You caused quite a stir round here, Captain," she says. She's not kidding.

He's bigger than she expected. Not that size means anything to Natasha. Usually. _"The bigger they come the harder they fall,"_ her handler used to tell her back in Stalingrad, right before he'd sucker punch her, or worse.

Actually, now she thinks about it, Ivan was the one who first showed her the value of controlling her feelings, of disguising want and fear and pain. He's the man who taught her the power of observation, of psychology, of using the illusion feeling to trip and trap the less disciplined. Or maybe he just harnessed skills she'd already learned the hard - _harder_ \- way?

Whatever, Nat is a closed book now. A closed book drenched in red.

Rogers' ledger, on the other hand? If Rogers' still battles his demons she can't see it. There's nothing guarded about him because he thinks he has nothing to hide. She's surprised to find how envious it makes her; surprised to find the attraction is to his _goodness_ , his uprightness, and not just the knowledge that he can definitely take her in a fight. It's embarrassing how obvious it all is - she can't believe she'd roll over for the alpha male to end all them all. Maybe it's not so surprising. She's been down for Fury since the day he hauled her ass out of that Stalingrad trainwreck. 

Natasha's read The Captain's file of course. Not the one they let Rogers read, the real one, the one with all the dirt. (Anyone who thinks S.H.E.I.L.D. is above that level of snooping is delusional.) Rogers is a man's man. He was a man's man 70 years ago and as far as S.H.I.E.L.D. knows now, that has not changed. He never dated before the serum, and afterwards there was only the War, and a school yard kind of crush on Director - or _Agent_ Carter, as she was then.

Since the big thaw, there's been no one. Not for lack of opportunity, either. Agent Hill had been pretty tenacious - you don't get to be Fury's sword arm without tenacity - and S.H.I.E.L.D. have not been above putting temptations in Rogers' way to lure him back into the world either. But Steve Rogers has never taken the bait.

In the file it says Rogers has two personal possessions - if you don't count the punching bags - one is a picture of Peggy Carter, the other is a picture of Rogers from before the serum, arm in arm with a Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. And that's the one that's next to his bed.

 _"Make of that what you will." That's what Director Fury had said to her. "He's no Tony Stark. You'll have to find some other way of getting under his skin."_ Observe, infiltrate, assess, report. Repeat.

Nat leads Rogers across the flight deck towards one of the prototype Quinjets when she spots a familiar figure narrowly avoid getting bowled over by a trolley of missiles. 

Banner stumbles his way towards them, hopelessly out of place amid the khaki and chrome in his tweedy suit and Natasha hangs back as the two men make their - Coulson would call it epic - introductions, curious to see what they'll make of each other.

Nat actually likes the doctor; he's mostly - _ironically_ \- harmless. Because Banner...now, Banner is interesting. This is a man who's also hiding nothing - not his fear, not his mistrust, not his vulnerability, nor his compassion; not even his intellect. It's all on show, as if the weight of them is the lid holding his other, more... _problematic_ , emotions in check. There's only so much a man can suppress, after all.

Nat watches the men closely while giving the impression of polite disinterest. _"The bigger they come, the harder they fall,"_ she thinks, and hope like hell that doesn't apply here, not with these men, not when they need them. 

Thinking about it sends a shiver down Nat's spine, though. They do not come much bigger than the _Other Guy_ , as Banner calls him. Hulk is the bogey-man Nat's been running from her whole life. He's the adult she couldn't escape as a little girl, the youth who wouldn't take *neyt* for an answer; he's the rage she has fought for years and years to control in herself. He is unleashed, unfettered, uncontrollable. For Natasha he is undeniable.

She fears him almost as much as she wants him. Wants to draw him out, get the inevitable over with. If there's a fight coming, Nat doesn't want to wait. But Banner seems calmer when he's in the company of others - as much as he claims solitude helps him. 

The two men look at each other.

"Gentlemen, you might want to step inside," she says to the two of them. "It's gonna get a little hard to breathe." Amen to that.

Rogers and Banner walk to the edge of the deck and watch the water churning in the ship's turbines. She sees them speak to one another, share an understanding. She sees Rogers' hand hover at Banner's back as the other man leans forward. She sees him tuck his hand out of sight quickly when Banner turns to Rogers to speak.

Nat's skin prickles.

 _Observe._ She's trained to see the little tells - the tenseness in the shoulders that says a man is on alert, the tightness by the eyes that says he's surprised and hiding it or doesn't even know it, the quirk of his mouth that says he wants to say more but can't or won't. The Captain had shown all of them when Banner shook his hand.

And Banner's twitchiness has gone up a notch or twenty. He can barely look the Captain in the eye. She grins to herself a little. 

_Assess._ So, fusty's Cap's thing? That is surprising. They're such a strange mismatch; brains and brawn. She tries not to grin again at Rogers' puffed up chest when Banner smiles at him.

Brains and brawn. Brawn and brains. It makes her think of... _Howard Stark._ Oh, of course. Banner's short, dark and brainy too; and, now that she comes to think of it, Barnes was pretty similar - dark looks, a tactician's mind, a smart mouth. She's read the files. All the files. But Banner is gentle where Stark, if the news reels were anything to go by, was a brash, self centered... well, was a _Stark._ And James Barnes is dead. Rogers doesn't seem the kind who likes to be reminded of that.

Maybe that's it? Stark-like, but gentle? Bucky-like but, to all intents and purposes, immortal? 

Nat would laugh at herself. Because the reality is Rogers has no idea that he leans in to Banner when he talks; he has no idea he hasn't quite looked the man in the eyes once, but can't seem to take his eyes off him. Rogers is clueless, the poor bastard. It makes her giddy, excited. Where's her alpha male gone? 

_Infiltrate._ She could make it happen for them. Rogers knows it's a different world than the one he went to sleep in, but that kind of fear, that conditioning? It'd be hard to break. It'd need _help_. _He'd_ need help. 

Nat takes a deep, slow breath through her nose and she pictures... she pictures Rogers on his knees, hands behind his back, head lowered and eyes closed; the taut curves of his muscles shine with sweat. _Boch smerti._ She turns and leads the two men back to the airlock as the ship rises from the water.

As they walk she pictures Banner standing over him, a white tank top clinging to his chest, dark with perspiration, the belt of his suit pants undone; his fingers twining in Rogers' hair as he looks... looks up at her. He's waiting for her word. _Brains and brawn and control. That's what Rogers would need._

On the flightdeck Natasha smiles to herself, cups her hand to the side of her face and pretends to listen to her ear piece. Banner smiles when she glances at him. Nat smiles back all the while picturing them in her room below - all steel and frosted glass, and the three of them reflected in every surface. She imagines nodding, just once, a curt drop of her chin, an order. And Bruce turns back to Steve, pulls his hair hard. "Open your mouth," he says. "Open it."

But Steve resists, eyes and mouth clenched tight shut, he shakes his head. Banner swallows. "Want me to get angry, Steve?" he says. "You want us to make you? " He glances at Natasha again. "You want her to?"

Steve's eyes flash open then, cutting to her. Natasha licks her lips and smiles with just the corner of her mouth, letting the want show in her face. Steve blinks up at Bruce; the knot of his Adam's apple bobs up and down slowly and his lips part.

"Good - Good boy," Bruce says, the words catching in his throat. 

"Uh..." Steve's eyes cut over to Natasha again and she shakes her head, finger pressed to her lips; Steve squeezes his eyes shut.

 _He's so perfect,_ Natasha thinks, even like this with the pink blush of shame and excitement spreading over his cheeks. So easy to read.

Bruce fumbles with his pants, pushes them down his thighs one handed and takes himself in hand. He presses the head of his cock against Steve's wet lower lip. Rubs it back and forth and sighs before pushing forward. Steve moans and tries to jerk his head away, but Bruce's grip on his hair is tight, Steve can't go anywhere. His mouth stretches around Bruce's red flesh. His nostrils flare and Bruce's hips twitch.

Natasha is so intent on Steve's mouth it takes a moment for her to notice Bruce's eyes on her, his sharp, shallow breathing, the way he bites his lip.

"Fuck him," she says.

And she can't help pressing her thighs tight together around her hand as Bruce's head falls back and his hips stutter forward. Steve whines, chokes on a deep thrust, and his cheeks hollow.

"Jesus," Bruce hisses. "Jesus Christ."

"He fucking loves it, Doc," she breathes. "Look." 

And Bruce slumps forward, both hands in Steve's hair now. He twists away a little so he can see beneath him; see Steve's hard cock jutting up from the junction of his spread thighs, the pale pink tip gleaming with pre-come, bobbing back and forth as Bruce fucks his face.

And Bruce laughs. His hands slipping out of Steve's hair down to cup his cheeks. 

"You-you do, don't you?" He pants, thumb sweeping over Steve's cheek bone. Their eyes lock as Bruce's hips keep pumping and there's just the "ah, ah, ah," of his laboured breathing, and wet sharp sounds of his cock in Steve's mouth. 

_Oish moi, blya._

"Miss Romanoff?"

Nat blinks and Rogers is standing in front of her, a slight frown between his eyes, lips quirked in a questioning smile. Nat's hand is on the airlock controls but she hasn't pushed them. She smiles back before she can stop herself, and then frowns before she can stop that either. Rogers reaches around her and hits the lock with a nod, holding out his hand for her to go ahead of him. The doors whoosh closed and he turns back to Banner. 

"Apparently the Bridge has to be seen to be believed, Doctor," Rogers says as he stands back and waits for her to lead the way, attention fixed on Banner.

Natash turns on her heel and heads off. It's a long walk to the bridge knowing they are both walking behind her. Smiling to herself, she makes sure to enjoy every second of it.


End file.
